Haze and Jenny were huddled together, cackling and looking at photos on Jenny’s phone. Why didIsometimes feel like the third wheel? Had Haze told Jenny about Clark Dixon? About how I hadn’t been able to finish him? Had they been laughing together over my impotence? Was my new weakness something they bonded over, mocking the big man who was now a big flop?
Haze put two spring rolls onto my plate without pausing her conversation with Jenny. She moved the sweet chili sauce toward me, knowing I couldn’t eat them without it.
No, she wouldn’t mock me behind my back. My weakness was her weakness. We were one. If I looked bad, she looked bad.
I might be constantly questioning myself, but I didn’t need to question my wife’s loyalty.
—
I woke up in the middle of the night in a panic about where I was. It took a moment, but then I realized—it was okay. I was in bed. I lay back on my pillow before bolting upright again. Tomorrow was bin day. After coming home to the horrors of hearing that Drake had been here, in our home, I’d been more than a little distracted.
I headed down to the kitchen in my dressing gown and slipped on my loafers by the door. I wheeled out the trash can from the side of our house and on to our driveway. It was still dark. Streetlights on. The road quiet and empty. I heard a noise down by the Campbells’ house. Was someone there? I stood, staring into the darkness.
What would I do? Give chase in my dressing gown?
It was 1:05 a.m. A teenager could be creeping back to bed. I didn’t have to see everything as a threat. But Ifeltit. Someone was out there, watching us. Watching the house.
This was what our life choices had resulted in.
We’d tried to have it all, and look what we’d brought to our door.
I couldn’t entertain the thought of giving it all up. It hadn’t gone so well last time we’d tried. And we were making a difference. We were doing good things. I wanted to leave a legacy for my children. Make my mark on the world by making it a better place. Yes, it was one I couldn’t ever shout about. But maybe after Haze and I were dead, we could let them know. A sealed letter, explaining the good we’d done. Haze would roll her eyes at me for being “so fucking dramatic,” but I wanted our children to know us, to truly know us. I just didn’t want that to happen until after we were already gone, in case they felt horror, not pride, at our bloodthirsty past.
It was difficult getting back to sleep.
Drake. Was he on to us?
The Chameleon. Was he coming for us?
Bibi. Had she inherited our violent streak?
Jenny. Was she betraying us?
Clark. Why hadn’t I been able to finish him?
Mike. When was I going to tell Haze?
I lay staring at the ceiling trying to calm my mind. Deep breaths as I started to drift off. I’d made a decision. I might not be able to get answers to all the questions I had racing around my head, but I could at least get a handle on one.
Tomorrow, I would tell Haze about Mike. She would understand that what I’d done had come from a place of love. It was going to be okay. And if it wasn’t? Well, she’d have to forgive me, as we were about to come head to head with the biggest threat we’d ever faced.
Chapter Forty
Haze
Today we were heading toBalgray Hall for a conference and a chance to snoop around the building. “No time lost in reconnaissance,” old Fox would say. Current Fox was giving himself a pep talk in the bathroom mirror. He was running the taps to try and drown out the sound of one of his ridiculous recordings.
I was spooning porridge into Reggie while Bibi was feeding toast to Pinga, her fluffy penguin. Around its neck was a silver pendant. Why did her soft toy have jewelry? I frowned at it, until I remembered it was Bibi’s lucky charm. She’d found it when we were at the hospital in Ivrea.
“You remember getting this?” I tapped it.
“Yes. When Dada was in hospital.” Bibi looked at her penguin’s necklace. “The fairies gave it to me.”
I smiled to myself. Last month, she’d had a twenty-minute conversation with her imaginary friend Princess Snufflepot where they bonded over their hatred of cooked carrots. I hoped she kept believing in fairies, and magical things, and anything brighter than the reality of the sad, gray world we lived in.
Once we’d dropped Bibi at school, we headed straight to Balgray, Reggie gurgling away in the backseat. Jenny had assured me he would be welcome too.
Sorry I can’t make it. School cake sale.
